Expedio
by PinkVerdict
Summary: A mental health institute, Sasuke's questionable sexual orientation, a bond-haired, blue-eyed god and a bunch of other Crazies? Certain Armageddon. But that's okay, because we're all mentally screwed, right? –Warnings inside, AU.
1. Introductions

**A/N: After random-hibernation-mode terminated, I suddenly became aware of the heinous fornication of plot bunnies in the darkest recesses of my mind. Conclusion/Point Of Sentence: I scare myself. **

**WARNINGS: Swear words (oh noes!), mentions of various mental illnesses and homosexuality (duh). **

**DISCLAIMER:  
><strong>**Q: What do Naruto, Valium, Camp Lazlo and The Muppets have in common?  
><strong>**A: I don't own them.**

* * *

><p>As I stared at the spectacle before me, my desire to grab the nearest sharp, pointy thing and drive it through my eyeball (repeatedly) suddenly skyrocketed. As it was, I settled for closing my eyes and breathing deeply.<p>

Worst-case scenario, I'd just curl into the foetal position and rock back and forth. I was legally crazy anyway.

I slowly opened my lidded eyes as I approached the circle of chairs. Glaring at everything in the room that offended me (such as anything that breathed) I took a seat in the nearest chair. Suddenly, a circle or Crazies stopped their conversations– or, in one case, dribbling– and stared at me.

The annoying nurse who had taken me on a tour of "my new home for the next six months (and the six after that if I fail the psych evaluation test!)" suddenly spoke up, brushing away her dark fringe from her face and adjusting her hideous pig brooch.

Think: Miss Piggy and the Mayor from _Camp Lazlo_'s love child.

"Everyone, this is Sasuke. He'll be staying in your wing for at least the next six months. Why not make him feel welcome? You know the drill," the nurse said, her almost-cheery tone highlighting the awkwardness in the air. She gave a self-conscious chuckle before nodding pointedly at a pink-haired candy striper and leaving the room.

The angelic smile was plastered onto Pinky's face for a few more milliseconds before she turned her head to glare at me. "Name. Age. Reason for being here," she barked. "For example, I'm Sakura Haruno. I'm 17. I'm going to be a doctor when I'm older, so I'm racking up the hours at this shit hole to get closer to that goal. Now you go," she commanded.

So, she was an incredibly annoying and duplicitous bitch. We might just get along.

"Sasuke Uchiha. 17. Killed my brother– temporary insanity. Or permanent. I don't really give a fuck," I drawled, counting two gasps during my confession.

So, out of 16 people, only two were even slightly surprised I killed my own brother. Or admitted to being insane. I could already tell I would fit in here.

The guy sitting next to me– tall, blond, tanned, _hot– _turned to give me an appreciative glance. It was then I noticed the candy striper uniform.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Naruto. Get that fucking thing off and _stop stealing female uniforms!" _Pinky screeched. Several of the Crazies laughed at the blond's antics.

Outwardly I blinked and sighed, annoyed. On the inside I pretended _not _to be cataloguing _that _name, imagining it tumbling from my abused lips as-…

Fuck. These are not straight thoughts, _damn-it-all-to-hell!_

A girl with two buns plonked on either side of her head scoffed. "And they call _me _the clepto," she snickered, turning to me. "The name's Tenten. I'm 18. I like shiny things," she explained, poking the pretty-boy next to her in the ribcage with something that was, indeed, shiny. And sharp. He glared at her icily before clearing his throat.

"Neji Hyuuga. 18. Daddy issues," he dead-panned. Looks like another friend for me.

Joy unbounded.

"Yosh! I'm Rock Lee! 18 youthful years of age! I want to be like my idol, Dr. Gai! Star of the day-time TV show 'The Beast in Green Scrubs!' and doctor here at the National Institute for Mental Health!" the broccoli-on-acid shouted. I don't know if I was more shocked at the fact that he _wasn't_ a patient or that green morph suits came _that tight. _

"Oh, ew. Sit down, Flubber, those suits were meant to be worn with underwear," a blonde girl said, swiping her long fringe away from her cerulean blue eye. Her hand was sickeningly bony, her face nothing but skin wrapped tight– too tight, inhumanly tight– around a skull. "I'm 17, Ino Yamanaka. Here because– as you can see– I'm death warmed up. 2 years of anorexia," she said. "Billboard brow over there," she gestured to Pinky, "calls me Ino-pig. She reckons I look like Tonton– that disgusting pig-badge Shizune was wearing." Again the Crazies laughed, and I joined in.

A guy with jet-black hair held up in a spiky ponytail sighed. "Fuck, this is troublesome. Well, I'm Shikamaru Nara. I'm 17 too. I've got chronic fatigue syndrome, in here for general depression, I guess," he droned.

"Aww man, lighten up. This place is great. Free food, free entertainment, hot nurses," the brunet stopped his speech to wink at a dark-haired nurse with the same eyes as Daddy's Boy. She blushed and rolled her eyes. The brunet turned to look at me, giving me a full view of his tattoos. "I don't know why he says everything's a drag. I'm Kiba. Kiba Inuzuka. 17, I'm in for… separation anxiety, you could call it," he said. I heard a soft whine from under his chair and saw what looked like a white, furry horse.

"I thought I told you; no dogs allowed in the common room," the raven-haired nurse reprimanded quietly. She glanced at me and blushed, saying, "I'm Hinata Hyuuga. I-I'm 16, birthday's in three weeks. I'm basically here to train for my family's b-business– we manufacture ph-pharmaceuticals," she almost whispered.

"Chouji Akimichi. 17. I guess you could say I'm in for addiction– used to be alcohol, then drugs, now food," he said through a mouthful of chips. "Kinda lame, I know, but if you take my last chip– or last _anything_– I'll fucking drop you." He continued stuffing his face with chips.

"And if you value your life, steer clear of the 'f' word," another blonde girl said., mouthing the word 'fat' afterwards. Her wild hair was tamed into four ridiculous pigtails, yet she still seemed badass. "Temari. 20. Aspergers. This is Gaara," she motioned to a redhead beside her, before continuing, "17. Slightly homicidal and generally fucked up." Gaara nodded slightly before returning to his Death Glare War with the wall.

"I'm Kankuro. 19. Arrested development," he declared, a grin spreading across his face. "Play with fucking puppets and you're declared insane," he yelled, causing everyone to laugh.

"They clearly want the youth of today off the streets and under surveillance. The government has probably planned the deaths of everyone in this room," uttered a jacket-clad guy. He was engulfed in about 3 layers of coats, with glasses over his eyes and a scarf over his mouth.

I'll admit, his impersonation of a camping tent was pretty damn good.

"That's Shino. He's 17 too. They call him schizophrenic, but he's really just a conspiracy theorist. He doesn't like to speak or show his face too much– reckons the governments keeping him under constant surveillance," the dog-boy (Kiba, was it?) chuckled. Happy Camper turned his head slightly, but other than that showed no emotion.

"He's a dickwad. But at least he has a dick, unlike tranny over there," a pale-ass guy cheerily explained, fake-ass smile distorting his face unfavourably. "I'm Sai, 17 years old. I pretty much don't have emotions. You look gay. Are you gay?" he asked, still fucking smiling.

He'd be lucky if he were able to even _blink_ once I'm through with him.

"Sai, shut the fuck up, alright? I have a dick, and he's not gay. And I'm not a tranny," the blond–the holy fucking fit, tanned, _blond_– yelled, a bit too loud to be healthy.

But fuck it.

He turned to me, immediately pissing me off when my heart decided to flat-line at those sparkling, cerulean-fucking-blue eyes, opened oh-so wide to stare at me.

Jesus, even I'm surprised that sentence didn't end with "into my soul".

"I'm Naruto Uzumaki! 17 years old, here for multiple personality disorder! Really I only have one other personality, and it's a fucking _fox_, man, but still. Crazy is crazy," he observed. Once again the room darkly chuckled, and I pretended not to savour the deep, breathy chuckle of a certain blue-eyed God next to me.

"So, what? You basically all admit to being crazy?" I asked. It wasn't exactly commonplace in the penthouses of Manhattan; usually we just popped a bottle or two of Valium and continued our charade.

"Pretty much. Denying it isn't normal, right?" Naruto joked, his lips stretching over (lickable) pearly whites. The Crazies, now including me, laughed, returning back to their original conversations now introductions were over with.

As I looked around the room and met the gazes of everyone just like me, with no judgement or fear, I could tell the next six months here could actually be beneficial to me.

But as my eyes locked with the forget-me-not blue pair beside me, I knew the next six months could also be hell. I could tell from the weird constricting in my chest, the aching in my throat and fire in my stomach as he smiled and turned away.

And I was supposed to be fucking straight…

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Love, hate, anger, passion, fear, jealousy, hunger... whatever you felt, drop a review? Flames are understandable :|**


	2. Pretty

**A/N: I know, I suck. This chapter really doesn't make up for however-many-months of neglect, but I'm finally back on track! Huge thanks to **darkstar7789 **and** SasuNaruYaoiness, **I appreciated your reviews, and this chapter is definitely because of you !**

**Usual warnings, and disclaimer. **

* * *

><p>He's pretty. Like, really pretty. He's pretty in a <em>dark<em> way. He's got dark eyes, dark hair, dark bruises and a dark smirk. But it's so heart-shatteringly beautiful, the contrast of dark, dark Sasuke against white, white walls.

"You're pretty," I chirp. I get that it's, like, 9 in the morning and the kid has probably been on some bus or plane or car for hours before getting to this particular pit of hell, and that it's probably too early for chirping, but what do I care? He's pretty.

"Hn." His dark grey eyes slide from Foxy Babe to me. Inwardly, I smirk. Pretty things belong together.

"In case you forgot, I'm Ino. I like pretty things. Things like glow sticks and shimmer bronzer and Forehead's laughter and bouquets and you… I like you," I ramble, scrutinizing his reaction. So far it's been blank staring with a little bit of disinterest.

"People are leaving," he says. His voice is like scotch over ice, thick and smooth and moving in melting. I like it.

"Ooh lunchtime!" I sing, casting a glance at the Shadow Prince. No-! The Shadow Hottie.

I spring up from my chair and offer the Shadow Hottie my hand, and I can't help the smile that crawls across my face.

"What?" he asks, suspicious of me. "You're too… happy," he mutters, eyes narrowing.

"Too happy to be in a mental institute or too happy to be an anorexic chick going to lunch?" I bite back, smirk still playing on my lips.

He barks out a raspy laugh, and I'm a little taken aback. The abrupt, suddenness of it didn't seem very… Sasuke. Just another shadow in a shadow, I guess.

He gingerly gets up from his chair, stretching his black-skinny-jean-clad legs and extending his bicep-ed arms. The hem of his white tee rides up over his abdomen and _oh, sweet Jesus, those abbs. _

Foxy Babe is one lucky guy.

"C'mon, follow me. I'll show you to the cafeteria," I say, flashing him one of my very brightest smiles, usually reserved for lava lamps and best friends.

* * *

><p>"No!" Sakura's damn enviable emerald eyes are as large as saucers, her mouth parted only slightly. Sakura just doesn't do 'the fly-catcher'.<p>

We're in the pantry of the kitchen of the Cafeteria of Hell, squished up nicely between shelves of fat-in-packets. I shudder.

"Yes. Absolutely," I say in my serious tone. This, more than anything, snatches Sakura's attention away from Foxy Babe and Shadow Hottie, who she's spying on through the cracked open door.

"But… that's… and just… no. No, they- they can't be… can they?" she's stumbling over the words worse than poor Hinata. Oh, God… Hinata…

"What will we do about Hinata? I mean, I know she doesn't _like_ like him anymore, but still… to just, find out he's gay, I mean…" I look at Sakura, seeking her guidance, like always. We both know she's the one with future.

"But we don't even know if he is… you know-"

"You can say it- gay," I tell her. 'Cause if there's one thing I don't do, it's intolerance.

"What if someone hears? Trust me, I've seen a de-closeting and it is not pretty. Just, let him come to terms with it-"

"'Come out' with it, more like it," I mutter.

"-On his own," she continues. "Besides, even if Naru-"

"Foxy Babe," I correct.

"-is gay," she finishes, shooting me a glare. Time to pull my pretty little head in, I know. "We don't know if Sasuke is too. I mean, awks if he's not and we've already planned their relationship," she says with a grimace. She looks like a pixie.

"You look like a pixie."

.

.

.

"I don't know why we're friends," she sighs.

* * *

><p>It's become my mission to determine Sasuke's sexuality and then have him and Naruto make babies. Sort of.<p>

God, those would be good-looking children, though.

"So…" I start, picking apart an innocent piece of broccoli.

(Innocent until you eat it.)

I take a bite and swallow thickly.

"What room are you in?" I quickly distract myself. I'm getting good, getting better.

"What do you mean?" he asks, moving his attention from his meal to me. I see him take note of the broccoli in my hand, so I take another bite.

(For show.)

Cue distraction. "I mean, where are you going to sleep? In case you haven't noticed, the 'young adult' wing is kinda full at the moment, so you'll probably have to share a room with someone," I explain, eyes trailing- somewhat suggestively- to the _foxy _guy sitting beside Shadow Hottie.

He subtly chokes on his water and darts his greyblackblue eyes from Naruto to me to the floor to Naruto.

"I don't think I have a room assigned yet," he says quietly. Probably non-chalantly, too, but I'm too busy spiralling into a web of conspiracies to really notice.

Sasuke says something, I listen to the words but don't actually register them. I do, however, register the stale, rock-hard bun piffed at my head.

"Don't hate, appreciate," I spit, wiping butter off my forehead with disdain.

"I asked you a question, the least you could do tell me to fuck off in response- and before you can ask, I said 'how long?'" His eyes narrow at the end of the sentence, testing my comprehension. I can tell he's asking about my disorder.

"3 years, on and off." My voice falters, but my gaze never does. Sasuke loses any air of arrogance, his eyes meet the table. Seeing Sasuke looking almost… vulnerable, it feels unnatural. "You know, you strike me as the type of guy who is always self-assured and determined. Backing down is not a good look on you," I say softly.

He scoffs, and suddenly he's back in all his radiant Sasuke-ness. His grin is rueful when he raises his head to look at me.

What he says next is just pure mind-fuck.

"It's easy to be cocky when you know the cliff you're standing on is crumbling. What's terrifying is when you don't know where you stand."

* * *

><p>'Shadow Hottie' just becomes more and more appropriate for Sasuke. He's hot, and he's multi-layered; hidden behind emotional walls and fake smirks, dark chuckles and disguised intentions.<p>

It kind of makes your heart ache, but in an exhilarating way. Bittersweet, addictive.

Fuck, being philosophical is exhausting. I tell Billboard as much, but she snorts unsympathetically.

I sigh dramatically, before commencing my plan. "Sakura. You're in with Tsunade. You were basically given control by Shizune. You _run_ this place," I say, leaning on the railing of my balcony. Sakura's curled up in a laid back little ball in a chair in the corner, lazily painting her nails.

"For the last time, I will _not_ install strobe lights in your room," she drawls. Lazily.

"Lazy girl," I hiss, then purse my lips. "I was actually thinking, you could have a major say in where our pretty little Sassy-wassy lives for the next six months, and I personally believe our pale Shadow Hottie could use a little…" I stop, knowing full well my cotton-candied friend will be able to finish that sentence.

"He needs a little sunshine…" she hums, sealing the nail polish bottle and blowing on her toes. "And I, for one, am all for giving him just that."

We turn to each other with shit-eating grins.


	3. Sarcasm

**A/N: Huge thanks to **the red panda alchemist **and **Ari-tenshi** for reviewing, and of course to everyone who favourited and/or alerted. Here's to you! Also, not _too _much NaruSasu, more Sand-Sibs (Temari, really) for this chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, Twilight or Snuggies. Fuck yes, I put them all in the one chapter !**

**Warnings: Mentions of rape and pedophiles (in jest). Oh, and the massacring of squirrels.**

* * *

><p>"So, Temari, what do we have today?"<p>

Dr. Kabuto was sitting across from me like a… like some sitting thing.

Like a sitting rapist.

Yeah.

"Fuck you. And 'we' have nothing. If anything, I am repulsed by you. And not the type of repulsion that breeds sexual tension. The type that dissolves your oesophagus from the sheer amount of acidic bile raping your throat each day," I spit out, a look of perfect apathy on my face.

"Hmm. So today we have… let me guess… depression? Bipolar disorder? Adolescent antisocial behaviour? Hmm, what haven't you done yet? Oh-! I know _exactly_ what you suffer from. Megalomania," Dr. Rapist sneered.

"I hate to repeat myself, but… fuck you," I sneer right back. Creepy motherfucker is going down if he thinks he can take me on.

"I'll put you on some anti-depressants-" I groaned- " and have you evaluated in two months time. If you have any problems with the medication or need someone to talk to, feel free to come see me." No, thank you. I actually don't like candy, or white vans. "If that's all for today, I'll have you started right away."

"What about if I suck you off?"

.

.

.

* * *

><p>"He has no sense of humour!" I yelled at the Big Boss.<p>

Tsunade, like the Boss she is, turned and gave a glare that could wilt dicks off heads. "Temari! Sexual promiscuity can be seen as a symptom of a mental illness, you fuckshit," she ground out between clenched teeth.

"I'm in a mental asylum, aren't I?" I prayed _someone_ would appreciate the irony.

"Because of your brother, yes. He has a unique case which allows his immediate family to stay with him-"

"Exactly. It's not like Kankuro or I could just squat in some random hospital room. We even have to undergo examinations and shit. I know we have an odd arrangement, but-"

Tsunade went ape shit. "IF you are seen as unfit to care for Gaara, he will be taken out of your _temporary_ custody and placed somewhere far less lenient than this, let me assure you, Temari. You think it's hard here? You think talking to _Dr_. Kabuto is a terrible thing? You think the people here are crazy? Try seeing the next fucking mad house your brother will go to if you don't pull your shit together. I know it's a lot of stress on you, which is _why_ we send you to the therapy with the Doctor. So shut the fuck up and pick your tits off the floor- we all have to do shit we don't like, princess," she grumbled. Halfway through her tirade a large stack of unfinished papers had been bitch-slapped to the floor, now I picked them up and dumped them on Tsunade's formidable desk.

With a fucking apple on top, 'cause I'm such a good girl.

I wonder if being unable to express your feelings or opinion without employing the use of sarcasm is a disorder?

"I'm sorry, Tsuande. I'll try really, _really_ hard from now on not to be an annoying fuck, I swear," I promised solemnly. The Boss flashed me an appreciative smile before flipping me the bird.

"Now, get the fuck outta my office."

"Yes, ma'am," I chuckled.

I always did like her.

* * *

><p>"Faaaaark," I breathed. Kankuro shot me a WTF look while Gaara continued to mentally murder fuzzy squirrels, or something.<p>

"What?" Kankuro asked, looking towards the entrance of the cafeteria. The guy from group therapy yesterday- Sasha? Saskia? Ass-gay?- strolled in, head down, hands in pockets. "Oh. You know, he's not even _that good l_-"

"Don't." Kankuro must be silenced. Immediately. The ice isn't thin, it's fucking _Ino_. "Do not blaspheme, you slatternly wench," I said. He just rolled his eyes at my antics and tried talking to Gaara.

Meanwhile, I pulled a Hinata and started some not-so-subtle stalking of the Hottie. He was sitting at his own table, picking at a tray of untouched food and generally looking like a Cullen.

"Is it weird I'm picturing him naked and sparkling?" I asked of no one in particular.

Gaara let out a long-suffering sigh.

* * *

><p>It was during group therapy. I had been staring (in contempt, fuck you very much) at a too-familiar head of suspiciously pineapple-shaped hair, when I suddenly pieced something together.<p>

A brilliant idea. Something that shat all over the Trojan Horse, or the Internet. Hell, it even beat snuggies. This idea was revolutionary, and would no doubt set things into irreversible, incorrigible motion.

I'd get onto Dr. Pedo's good side by offering up a fine piece of jail-bait.

"-even though we might feel conflicted, we know the right choice is to just say no," Sakura finished in a bored voice. She snapped the book in her hand closed, and raised her head to look at us. "Now, does anyone have any questions?"

Ino's skeletal hand shot up into the air, her drawn face alight with… mischief?

I swear, I even saw her eating, too. Whatever the fuck was going on, it better keep happening.

"Yes, Pig?" asked the sickly sweet nurse.

"How was your night Sasuke?" So that was Jail-bait's name. " Did you sleep well?" Ino was facing the poor kid head on, a look of concern on her face.

"Erm-"

Ino gasped in mock horror, "Oh, you poor thing. Of course you didn't get a minute's rest, you were probably tossing and turning in your makeshift bed all night!"

"Not r-"

"We'll have that fixed right away, won't we Billie?" The blonde asked Sakura, using her shorter nickname.

"Yes we will, Ino, so why don't crawl back into your sty and let others ask genuine questions?" the young nurse admonished. Ino pouted, causing Sakura to sigh. "Ugh, fine. Sasuke, we've decided to move you into room 128. I'll have a nurse guide you there after this meeting. The same nurse will guide you, Kiba, to your new room. And no arguments; these are Tsunade's orders."

Hmm… so Sasuke's replacing Kiba… who rooms with Naruto… who…-

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Wait. A. Minute.

Sasuke is replacing Kiba, and is therefore sharing a room with Naruto.

Who loves me.

And would probably help me lure aforementioned Jail-Bait to Dr. Pedo.

Sweet!

"-that's all then we may as well finish a few minutes early. Hinata, could you please escort Sasuke?" Sakura's voice drilled through my epiphany, dragging me back to boring reality.

The crowd was slowly dispersing as people went their separate, insignificant ways. I caught sight of hair the colour of sun, and a smile the warmth of it. I immediately rushed to Naruto's side.

"Nazza, I have a favour to ask," I told him. He grimaced slightly at the pet name but slowed to walk with me none the less.

"I thought I told you; you don't need to ask for sexual favours," he said, winking. I turned grin at him when I saw them.

The whiskers.

"What. The. Fuck? What the fuck are those?" I yelled. I'd almost flailed into a wall when I first saw them.

"My God. Don't get me started; it was Kyuubi," he groaned, slapping his face in frustration. I winced at the mention of Kyuubi.

"Look, this might not be the best time, then, but I was wondering… would you be willing to help me sell your new roommate to Dr. Snake-in-the-ass (see what I did there?) in order to clear my name of any strikes?" I'd gotten quieter as I asked him, the idiocy of my plan silencing me until the final word was barely more than a squeak.

Naruto considered what I'd asked before humming out, "No. He seems… nice."

I rolled my eyes. "Teen romance… ew."

"Fuck you," he chuckled.

"Oh, God, I'm corrupting the young ones. Please tell me at least your virtue is still in tact!" I called across the cafeteria as he walked to his table and I went to get a snack. A few people in between us turned to stare, but most people were used to our shit.

"Innocent as a four-pigtailed whore, I assure you!" he called, smug smirk on his fucking whiskered face.

Man, I love that cheeky little fucker.


End file.
